Which One of Us is the Bigger Idiot?
by Sherlockian87
Summary: Sherlock has no concept of time. He likes to show up at Molly's flat during all hours (day or night), and ask her to help him solve crimes. But what is he exactly up to? (one-shot. very fluffy)


Which One of Us is the Bigger Idiot?

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"Molly!" _Bounce._ "Molly!" _Bounce._ "Molly wake up!" _Bounce._

She groaned, rolling onto her stomach. This was not happening. There was no way that The World's Only Consulting Detective was sat upon her bed, bouncing.

"Molly!" He had stopped and was now starting to sound a bit annoyed. "Don't you want to help me solve crimes?"

She groaned again. "Sherlock, it's the middle of the night!"

He let out a loud exhale. "Crime does not stick to a set schedule!"

She humphed into her pillow. "Neither does crime pay, which my job does! My job, which I have to go to in the morning, hence the reason why I need my sleep!" She picked up her head and glared at him, noting that the git hadn't even bothered to take off his Belstaff and scarf. Did he honestly think that she would just jump up and instantly run off with him?

"You're no fun." He was pouting now.

She rolled her eyes. "Which would you prefer, a well-slept pathologist that greets you with a smile and autopsies, as well as perhaps a body part or two for you to take home, OR a sleep-deprived pathologist that snaps at you and eventually throws you out of the morgue?"

He blinked rapidly several times. "Ahh. Duly noted." He rubbed idly at his jaw, remembering all too-well what it felt like to be on the wrong side of Molly.

She let her head drop back down onto the pillow, letting out a loud yawn. "You can stay if you like. You don't have to go," she told him sleepily.

He nodded and stood up before taking off his coat and unwinding his scarf. He draped both over the chair in the corner then walked over to her wardrobe. He took out the pair of pyjamas he always kept at her flat and then left her bedroom.

Molly's eyes had fallen closed, but popped open when she felt the bed dip. He had stretched himself out along side of her, pulling the duvet over his long legs. His curls were a stark contrast against the white of the pillow case. She watched him silently for several moments, before a giggle bubbled up through her throat.

Sherlock turned his head. "What exactly are you finding so amusing?"

She swallowed her laughter, tucking her arms beneath her pillow. "You, you ridiculous berk."

He knitted his eyebrows and she giggled again.

"For a genius you can be quite the idiot sometimes. You don't have to come up with false pretenses just to get into my bed. If you want to sleep here, then sleep here. I honestly don't mind." She snuggled her head down into the pillow and closed her eyes.

Molly had just very nearly managed to fall back to sleep when suddenly she felt a pair of warm lips press against her cheek.

"Why do I bother to try and keep anything hidden from you?" His voice came out in a deep timbre, the heat of his breath dancing across her cheek.

She giggled again, keeping her eyes closed as he brushed the tip of his nose against her jaw line. Her breath hitched when he suddenly replaced his nose with his lips. An almost indecipherable sigh escaped her as he began to trail feather-light kisses across her skin.

"Solve crimes my arse," she hissed out as he suddenly slipped his hand beneath the t-shirt she was wearing.

He slowly let out a breath, it tickling across her ear. The hand that he had beneath her shirt began to massage her back. "It seemed," he growled out, "a perfectly good reason for me to come here." He nipped at her earlobe.

"In the middle of the night?"

He sighed and pulled his hand out of her shirt before rolling onto his back. Her eyes popped open and she looked at him. Even in the faint light she could tell that he was glaring at the ceiling.

"Oh stop your sulking. I was just teasing you." She pushed herself up to a seated position. "Sherlock, can we stop this please? If you want to be with me, then just be with me. You don't need to be afraid."

"I'm not afraid," he spat out, still glaring at the ceiling.

"Then what is it?"

"I keep thinking that you'll realize I'm not worth it. That there is a much better man out there."

Molly crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Sherlock, you really are an idiot! You're the one who told me I should give up on men! Every single one I've dated has been a complete disaster, why on earth would you think that I could find someone better than you?" She dropped her arms down to the bed before leaning forward. "For me, there is no one better."

His gaze finally left the ceiling and came to her. "Which one of us is the bigger idiot?"

She gave his arm a solid thwack with the back of her hand. He grabbed her wrist and tugged her down beside him. He turned his body so that they were both facing each other.

"Are you going to stop sneaking into my flat in the middle of the night?" she asked him.

He ducked his head beneath her chin in order to press an open-mouthed kiss to her neck. "Possibly," he murmured.

She sighed, bringing her hand to rest against his hip. He continued to trail kisses across her neck. Then suddenly he grew still. He lifted up his head and looked down at her. She peered up at him, waiting expectantly.

"If you move in with me at Baker Street, there won't be a reason for me to break into _your_ flat."

Her mouth dropped open. "Do you really want me to?"

He took up her hand and kissed the center of her palm. "Do you doubt me?"

"No. I-I just, you've surprised me that's all."

He kissed her palm again. "Good surprised?"

"Yes. Most definitely."

He pressed a kiss to her wrist. "Is that a yes then?"

"Do you honestly think I would say no?"

He dropped her hand and tucked his arm about her waist; molding her body up against his. When he pressed his lips to hers he could feel her smiling.

"About bloody time you kissed me!" she murmured when they parted for breath.

He smirked, looking a bit too pleased with himself. He gave her another kiss before settling his head down upon the pillow. "Go to sleep Molly, I don't want my pathologist to be grumpy in the morning!"

She rolled her eyes but laid her head down upon his chest. He put his arms around her, slipping his hand once more beneath her shirt. When she was just about to drift off to sleep Sherlock's deep baritone broke through the silence.

"Will you move in tomorrow?"

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**Anxious git :-P**

**Be sure to let me know what you think! :D **


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